Manhattan Is My Beat (Rune 1)

A little tingle. Nothing as high-voltage as with Richard. But it was something. Besides, Richard, who she thought she was in love with, had just been giving her crap about her life, while this guy, almost a stranger, had gone to the trouble to help her with her quest.

Little red hen ...

She gave him a coy look, a Scarlett O'Hara look. "That's the only reason you came all the way down here? To tell me about a fifty-year-old case?"

He shrugged, avoided her eyes. "I stopped by your place and you weren't there and I called here and they said sometimes you just hang out and talk about movies with people." He said this as if he'd practiced it. Like a shy boy rehearsing his lines to ask a girl out on a date. Embarrassed. He crossed his arms.

"So you took the chance I'd be here?"

"Right." After a moment he said, "And I'll bet you want to know why."

"Yeah," she said. "I do."

"Well." He swallowed. How could somebody with such a big gun be so nervous? He continued. "I guess I wanted to ask you out. I mean, if you don't want to, forget it, but--"

"Rune," Frankie called, "phone!"

"Wait right there," Rune told Dixon, then added emphatically, "Don't go away."

"Sure. Sure. I won't go anywhere."

She picked up the phone. It was Amanda LeClerc. "Rune, I thought you want to know," the woman said quickly, her accent more pronounced because of her excitement. "Victor Symington's daughter, she over here. I mean, right now. You want to see her?"

Rune glanced at Dixon, who was looking at video boxes. He glanced at the X-rated section, blushed, and looked away quickly.

Rune, debating furious--what should she do?

A man who wanted to ask her out versus the quest.

This was totally unfair.

"Rune?" Amanda said. "I don't think she going to stay too long."

Eyes on Dixon.

Eyes on the Brooklyn Yellow Pages.

Oh, shit.

Into the phone she blurted out, "I'll be right over."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"You had the baby?"

Rune looked up from the building directory, so thick with graffiti she couldn't find the number of Amanda LeClerc's apartment.

Her surprised eyes rested on the surprised face of the young man who'd let her into the apartment building two days before--when she'd been extremely pregnant. Now, she let him open the door for her again and she walked inside.

"I did, thanks," Rune said. "Courtney Madonna Brittany. Six pounds, four ounces."

"Congratulations," he said. He couldn't help but stare down at her belly. "You, uh, feeling okay?"

"Feeling great," Rune assured him. "I just ran out for a minute and forgot my keys."

"Where's your little girl?" he asked.

When you lie, lie with confidence. "She's upstairs. Watching TV."